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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156029">Better Sober</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_A_Salter/pseuds/M_A_Salter'>M_A_Salter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hunger Games (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Missing Scene, Resolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:21:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_A_Salter/pseuds/M_A_Salter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Haymitch walks Effie back to her quarters after the meeting in which she declares that she likes him better sober. We find out how much better when she invites him in.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Better Sober</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first attempt at a sexually-explicit story, and I relied somewhat heavily on existing stories I love. In particular, the discerning reader will notice moments of striking similarity between the actions of my Haymitch Abernathy and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahleeyah/pseuds/rahleeyah">rahleeyah</a>’s Lucien Blake (especially from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/12459930">“Loneliness”</a>). I hope she will forgive me for that; my imitation is intended—most sincerely—as flattery. Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cautiously_Delightful/pseuds/Cautiously_Delightful">Cautiously_Delightful</a> for a very helpful beta read!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Around a conference table in District 13 sat the brain trust of the Mockingjay propaganda project. Plutarch Heavensbee had suggested they retire there after Haymitch Abernathy—fresh from 13’s Substance Abuse Rehabilitation Center on level 25—had interrupted a very disappointing first day in the studio.</p>
<p>Haymitch stood silhouetted by the glowing screen behind him and addressed the group, “Let’s everybody think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you.”</p>
<p>Effie’s hand flew into the air, like the teachers’ pet she must surely have been, and with a quiet reverence in her voice she said, “When she volunteered for her sister, at the reaping.”</p>
<p>Haymitch turned to the board as he said, “Excellent example.” He erased a patch of the board and said “I hope that wasn’t important” while casting a flippant glance at Plutarch and Coin. “Okay,” he said as he wrote, “volunteered for sis. Good, what else?”</p>
<p>Effie raised her hand again but, as previously, did not wait to be called on and said, “Oh! When she sang that song, for litte Rue.”</p>
<p>“Hm, yeah, who didn’t get choked up at that,” Haymitch said.</p>
<p>Effie gave a resonant “Mmmm” in response.</p>
<p>Haymitch, eyeing Effie as he turned back to the board, said, “You know I like you better, Effie, without all that make-up."</p>
<p>"I like you better sober," Effie shot back with a smile.</p>
<p>Haymitch looked at her over his shoulder and his pen on the board hesitated. She held his gaze and the smile. After a beat he turned back to the board and the meeting continued.</p><hr/>
<p>An hour later, Effie had helped Katniss change from her Mockingjay suit back into her fatigues, Coin and Boggs had nailed down some details for the propo team’s first expedition to the field, and Haymitch and Effie were catching up with each other as they walked through the corridors of 13's residential block.</p>
<p>Effie was telling him the story of her “rescue” from the capitol. He had known it was part of Plutarch’s plan, and before he’d fallen into the abyss of misery that was 13’s rehab facility, he’d gotten confirmation from Plutarch that she was safe, but he hadn’t heard the whole story. They walked and talked and soon found themselves in front of her quarters. They paused outside her door and Haymitch said, “Can I ask you something?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Effie said.</p>
<p>“How much better?"</p>
<p>"To what are you referring?" Effie said, putting on a distracted air.</p>
<p>Haymitch shook his head, and exhaled forcefully. And with the slightest edge of irritation in his voice said, “Before. You said you liked me better sober. I’m asking, <em>how much</em> better?"</p>
<p>Effie smiled, and she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them she took a half step closer to him and began to fondle the placket of his cardigan. She looked up at him with deliberation, as if she was waiting for her answer to reveal itself in his face. Four or five seconds of silence passed, as they simply stood there, her fingers toying with his sweater, her eyes searching his face, Haymitch’s palms starting to sweat. She moved her hand and placed it flat on his sternum. She said, "Why don't you come inside and I'll show you."</p>
<p>Smugness vied with nervousness in his gut as Haymitch followed her inside. He turned to secure the door behind them, and as he turned back to face Effie, she was right there, stepping out of her heels and staring at him with fierce determination on her face. They both took a step towards each other as she reached a hand to his cheek and brought his face down to meet hers.</p>
<p>Her mind raced as their lips met. She had wanted this for so long; she had not really been waiting for him to get sober, she honestly didn’t know what she had been waiting for. She had also avoided this for so long; she did like him better sober, what did that say about the wisdom of this encounter? She had dreaded this and dreamt about it. For years it had felt like—for better or worse—she could only become more entangled with this man.</p>
<p>Her mind asked quietly if she really wanted this. And a tiny part of her wondered how many District 13 rules they were breaking right now—this hateful place—at the very least this was probably not the part of the day designated for sex. But this near-instantaneous wandering of her mind had no effect on her body, which didn't hesitate. She opened her mouth to admit his tongue, and with both hands on his chest she began to back him up against the now-closed door of her quarters. She slid her hands up to his shoulders, then reached around so her elbows were crooked around his neck. His large hands were splayed across the whole width of her back as he pulled her in closer. Effie reached up with one hand and pulled the watch cap from Haymitch’s head, tossing it on the floor beside them.</p>
<p>Haymitch began to slide his hands down her back again, he gave her ass a gentle squeeze, and kept going, until he took hold of her just below both hips. In one smooth motion he lifted her easily, she wrapped her legs around his back, her shirt-dress riding up to her waist, and he carried her to the narrow bed. For a long moment he held her in suspension, just a few inches above the high platform, while they continued to kiss desperately and Effie tangled her fingers in his hair, her elbows braced on his shoulders.</p>
<p>Effie had always admired Haymitch physically: she noticed his broad shoulders, admired the stretch of fine Capitol broadcloth across hard muscle; she had imagined how his grey-blonde stubble would feel against her skin. Especially when he was dressed up to woo sponsors, she would sometimes catch herself fantasizing about slowly undoing all the buttons of his waistcoat, unknotting his tie, pulling it from his collar excruciatingly slowly. But she found that this District-13 Haymitch had his appeal as well. She hated wearing these jumpsuits herself, but the drab canvas only accentuated Haymitch's physique. She thought about all the times she had noticed the curve of his bicep, the flex of his thigh as he sat down next to her, when she could only imagine his strength. Now she could feel it as he held her, just as she could feel his growing desire for her pressing up against her bottom as she hung from his shoulders.</p>
<p>He set her down on the edge of the bed, and began to lean over her, his intent to get them both prone as soon as possible. But Effie pushed back and he allowed himself to be straightened up again. She whispered a barely audible “Wait.” And before he had a chance to worry if it was the kind of "wait" that came before "stop,” she smiled roguishly at him, pushed his sweater off of his shoulders, and began methodically unbuttoning his shirt. Haymitch let out a little groan of longing and impatience, but set to his own work, untying the scarf that wrapped her head. He paused for a moment to run his fingers through her short blond hair before he began on the buttons of her dress.</p>
<p>By now Effie had moved onto his belt. As soon as she had undone it, Haymitch stepped back slightly, and stripped as quickly as he could, while she watched him, somewhat languidly removing her own belt, and undoing the remaining buttons of her dress, all without taking her eyes off him. When he was naked, he moved to help her with her stockings but she held up a gentle hand and said, “Patience, Haymitch. This is my only pair.” She rolled them carefully down her legs and tossed them lightly onto the opposite bunk. She slipped off her dress, revealing matching lace bra and panties that—like the stockings—she had been wearing when she fled the Capitol. She reached both arms towards Haymitch, welcoming him to the bunk.</p>
<p>He climbed in over her as she leaned back, making room for him, and as soon as he was within reach she took his chin in her hand, holding his face such that she was looking directly into his ocean-grey eyes, so familiar and yet shining with longing for her that she had never seen before. Haymitch was propping himself up on both hands, careful to keep his weight from resting on her delicate frame. She guided his mouth to hers slowly, and kissed him with a tender lightness as she traced her other hand across the hot skin of his chest.</p>
<p>She felt an overwhelming urge to feel as much of that skin as possible, so she broke the kiss and with both arms pulled him down on top of her. He was heavy, heavier than she had imagined, but it felt good—somehow the weight of him on top of her matched her desperation to touch as much of his body at once as she could. His face was buried in the side of her neck, and she shuddered with pleasure at the feel of his hot breath on the delicate skin of her throat. She could feel his arousal, pressing against her thigh. She shifted slightly underneath him, her pleasure in feeling the full weight of him giving way to her need to fully inflate her lungs, and in response he shifted, propping himself up again on one elbow. This gave her just enough room to slip her panties off her hips. With his free hand Haymitch slid them the rest of the way down her legs.</p>
<p>They shifted slightly again, and she felt his cock settle heavy between her legs, his tip just brushing against the wetness of her entrance as he moved. He was running his hand the length of her side, up from the bend of her knee to the side of her breast, where he traced the lace edge of her bra with gentle fingers. Her body’s need for him was becoming overwhelming and against his shoulder she breathed “Haymitch,” took a ragged breath, and added, “<em>Please</em>."</p>
<p>He knew what she was asking for, but he hesitated for just a moment. He held it as a principle that one should always provide abundant foreplay; he had a repertoire he had not begun to deploy. But it was perhaps a more sacred principle of him to always do what Effie Trinket told him to do. And hadn't they had a decade of foreplay?</p>
<p>She let out a moan of impatience which turned smoothly into a deeper moan of satisfaction as he gently eased into her, deepening slightly with every stroke until he was buried to the hilt in her warmth and they both let out a cry of satisfaction. He filled her completely, and Effie felt stretched, to that delicious point just this side of pain. She felt close to climax already—after all, she had been thinking about this since they were back in the conference room. She knew she <em>should</em> want to prolong this, but she was acting on instinct now, and her instinct was that she wanted him hard and fast. She began to lift her hips against him, establishing a quicker rhythm as she pulled his head down to kiss him hard.</p>
<p>She shifted the angle of her pelvis and wrapped her legs around him, crossing her ankles at the small of his back. He followed her lead and kept up the pace she set, thrusting into her again and again. They were both panting from the effort now, but Effie just managed to utter a “Don't stop,” and he didn't.</p>
<p>He could feel her muscles starting to flutter around his length, and he sped up ever so slightly. The pendulum of her pleasure was swinging higher and higher, and she closed her eyes tight. Her mouth was hanging open and she was moaning—they had stopped kissing, both of them needing too much oxygen.</p>
<p>He breathed her name, "Effie...", her eyes snapped open and locked with his, and in that moment her pendulum swung over the top and she lost control, cascading down waves of sensation and whimpering as her legs twitched on either side of their joined bodies. The sight and sounds of her ecstasy were too much for Haymitch; he drove inside her undulating heat once, twice, three times more, and then let out a low groan as he spilled himself inside her.</p><hr/>
<p>They lay there for a little while, catching their breath. The bed was narrow, and after a moment they shifted so that they were both lying on their sides, looking at one another. Effie uttered a little hum of disappointment as he slipped out of her. Otherwise they remained in silence, looking into each others eyes, as Haymitch methodically stroked Effie’s hair at her temple.</p>
<p>A single tear escaped her eye. Haymitch wiped it away gently with his thumb and said, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”</p>
<p>“Nothing.” She smiled weakly at the sound of him calling her sweetheart, which she hadn’t heard in a month. “I don’t know. I just feel a little overwhelmed.”</p>
<p>“I know what you mean,” he said, and he leaned in and kissed her cheek with lingering tenderness. “I don’t know about you, but for me this was a long time coming.”</p>
<p>“Oh Haymitch, really?” Effie said, as she shifted again, propping herself up on one elbow in a more alert posture. “For me, too. I honestly don’t know what we were waiting for.”</p>
<p>“Well, I thought <em>you</em> were waiting for me to sober up, remember?” Haymitch said.</p>
<p>“No. I mean… I do like you better sober, I can’t lie to you about that, but I liked you before, too. I like you anyway I find you,” Effie said with a mischievous smile, as she gave his arm a squeeze, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”</p>
<p>And now it seemed to Effie that tears were starting in Haymitch’s eyes as he took a deep breath and said, “I was so afraid, that night. The last night of the games. I nearly clocked Plutarch, arguing with him about picking you up in our hovercraft, and then they locked me up pretty much the moment I got here. The next day Plutarch came and told me you’d made it here okay, but that was one of the longest nights of my life, not knowing what had happened to Peeta, not knowing what had happened to you.”</p>
<p>Effie cupped the side of Haymitch’s face with her hand, gently tracing his cheek bone with her thumb. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you in your…facility. Until recently I…I was indisposed.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Plutarch mentioned you had been sulking in your quarters,” Haymitch said.</p>
<p>“Yes. Well. I would not characterize it as sulking. It was more of a peaceful protest. But never mind that. Now that we have been…reunited”—at this Haymitch snorted a laugh, and Effie slapped him playfully on the arm—“we can get to work doing what we came here to do: keeping our victors alive.”</p>
<p>“I’ve really missed you, Effie.”</p>
<p>“Me too, Haymitch.”</p>
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